Moerae
by fluteface
Summary: Musings on the passing of a major character
1. Moerae Introduction

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters used within, although it seems Archie is up for grabs now. If the C. S. Forester Estate ever tires of them, send 'em my way, please?

Please R and R 

Spoilers: Mutiny, Retribution

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Moerae

By Kathy Kirchner

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The Fates

or, deciders of men's destinies

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Clotho

The spinner, who spins the thread of life

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Lachesis

The measurer, who chooses the lot one will have in life and measures how long it 

shall be

Atropos

She who cannot be turned, who at death with her shears cuts the thread of life


	2. Fate: Clotho

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Fate: Clotho

...Just take what I offer - take it and say goodbye...

I cannot, Archie. Do not ask me to.

__

...See? Better already...

No, Archie. It will never be better. How can a world possibly be better, if you are not in it?

I want to scream, to rail against the fates, or the gods, or whoever is responsible for this, but I cannot. To do so would negate the unselfish gift you have offered, and I will not do that, Archie, I will not do that to you - I will not dishonor you by acting as a child. But dear god, how I need to.

I hold my breath as a spasm of pain rips through you. I want to help you, I want to hold you again as I did aboard _Renown_, but protocol and decorum and my own rigid pride demand that I not do so. Why is that? I could hold Mariette as she lay dead in my arms and I wept like a child, could grasp tightly to Clayton's hand as he passed, but I cannot even touch the man who meant more to me than they ever could, the man who awoke my heart to the joys of friendship, even, yes, of love.

Oh, I never spoke it, nor did you for that matter, but it was always there between us. Not the love spoken of in romance, but the love borne of adversity and adventure, of two souls forever intertwined as brothers. There will never be another you, Archie. There will always be an empty space, a hole where you resided, by my side and in my heart.

I feel that heart break as I watch the light fade from your eyes. Those eyes, that always sparkled with mirth, or sparked with anger at any injustice - oh, god, Archie, that cannot be you lying there, no glow behind those eyes, no ready smile or quick quip upon those lips - it cannot be the same man of tremendous courage and compassion that I have known all these long years. How is that possible?

My dear friend.

Oh, how inadequate those words are. I never had your gift for eloquence, Archie, your talent for oratory. Yes, I can give a speech about duty and honor, and inspire the men, but it's only surface rhetoric. You always spoke from your heart and damn the consequences. Did you know, my friend, how much I admired that aspect of your character? Did you know that I envied you, being so sure of your emotions and never afraid to let them show? How I wish I could do that, how I wish that, just once, I could have told you what you meant to me, how much you have enriched my life, how proud I was of you, of everything you have overcome, all that you have accomplished. But now it's too late. You've left me, Archie, left me behind as I did to you when boarding the _Papillion_. But this time, there will be no miraculous reunion in a prison cell in Spain, no turning around to find you lying under that moldy blanket. Oh, Archie, I would give my own life, if only you would wake and look at me, just one more time, to be able to hear me say what it is in my heart.

I'm angry, Archie. I'm so damn angry. This should never have happened. Not to _Renown_, not to us, not to you. Where is the justice in war, when good men like you die, and weak men like Buckland live to command. Oh, I know what you would say. War makes no discrimination between bad and good. You were always so pragmatic about death - Clayton, Eccleston, Chadd, Wellard, and all the others. You accepted it as a part of life. The only time I saw death affect you was when I told you Simpson was dead. If only that had happened years before, I wonder how your life would have been, I wonder how far you would have gone in your career. I wonder if we would still have served together. I wonder if maybe, just maybe, you would never have been aboard _Renown_. Oh, Archie, I'm so sorry. This is my fault entirely.

I will never forgive myself, Archie, for not killing him earlier for what he had done to you. I will never forget the fear in your eyes when you finally told me what happened in those dark holds aboard _Justinian_, the horrors he subjected you to. That fear was not only of Jack Simpson, but of how I would view you for what happened. Archie, the trust you showed in me by telling me of those things, shook me to my very soul, a soul I never even knew I possessed until I met you. How could you think that I would turn from you? 

And now, instead, you have turned from me. Forever. My dear friend. How unselfish was your act, how generous and loving was your gift. As with everything in your life, Archie, you gave it from the heart. The purest, brightest light that ever shone on this earth has been forever extinguished, and I know that I shall reside in shadow for the rest of my days. My soul has been silenced, my heart closed to all.

To say that I will miss you does not even begin to encompass the grief I feel right now, the emptiness that presses upon my chest. I cannot do this without you, Archie, and yet I know I must. You wanted me to go on, you wanted me to live, but I do not think it will be living that I do. Rather, it will merely be existing, until we are reunited. I have never been a believer in the afterlife, but now I must be, for I cannot endure the thought of eternity stretching out before me, without you to guide me. What will your welcoming words be this time, Archie? Surely not "welcome to purgatory." Perhaps that is where I will spend my time, but not you. Certain sure, you are already among the angels where you belong.

Goodbye, my dear friend - my brother. I shall see you again. Will you wait for me? I will do as you wished, and I will live my life as you would want me to, striving to be the best that I can be, to honor your memory, so that we may someday be together again. And as I live, I will carry you in my heart - your wit, your honor, your compassion, your strength, but most of all, your love. Thank you, Archie, for showing me what that word truly means, and know that I will honor your sacrifice for the rest of my life. It is the least I can do for the man who meant the world to me.

Fear not, Archie, your name is not tarnished in the eyes of those who knew you well. Your sacrifice will not be in vain, and between us, we will remember you and what you stood for, the pride we all have in you. Someday, my friend, I promise - the world *will* know the truth of who you were. Your innocence will be revealed, and your good name restored. I swear it.

Until then, we must be parted. Your physical body has been taken away, yet strangely, I find myself unable to leave. I still feel you here, my friend - still feel your light and warmth, as if you were standing beside me once again. Perhaps you are. I like to think that you will always be at my side, even if I can't actually see you there. It helps. Only a little, but it helps. I still feel the band around my chest as I think of you, the pain that squeezes my heart until it is shriveled and dead, and I know that life itself has irrevocably changed. No one will ever touch me as you did.

Godspeed, Archie. Know always that, in my own way, I loved you. Your memory will be protected deep within my heart, and not a day will pass that I do not think of you, and miss you. My dearest friend. Wait for me. I'll be there soon.


	3. Fate: Lachesis

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Fate: Lachesis

A travesty.

There is no better word for what has befallen you, Mr. Kennedy. Fate has dealt us all a cruel blow, and I do not know how Mr. Hornblower will recover from this. Nor, for that matter, how I myself will.

Never in my life have I witnessed such an act of honor, of integrity, of friendship. When I looked up in that courtroom, to see you walking down that aisle, barely able to keep your feet, held up only by your own determination and raw courage, my heart fell into my stomach. I knew immediately what you were doing, and the reason you were doing it, and it took all my restraint not to halt the proceedings immediately, before you had a chance to speak. I curse myself now for my weakness. Hammond and Collins wanted a scapegoat, but it should not have been you, it should not have been an innocent man of such honor.

Yes, Mr. Kennedy, I know that is what you are. I know that you did not push your captain into the hold, that you only confessed so that a good man would be spared. Another innocent man. Damn the Admiralty for wanting to protect the reputation of one man, while being perfectly happy to blacken the name of another. The absolute injustice of it infuriates me. After all you have done to build up your good name, everything you overcame to become the man you are, they wanted to tear it from you, to destroy your reputation in favor of a mad captain.

I *do* know what you had to overcome, Mr. Kennedy, and it breaks my heart to know it. There were whispers aboard _Indefatigable_, of your fits, and especially the cause of them, and though I tried mightily to ignore them, it became impossible. I did hear the truth, finally, from the one man you had confided in. Do not fear, Mr. Kennedy, he did not tell me directly, but it was enough for me to realize that the rumors did, indeed, have basis in fact. It is beyond appalling what was done to you. Had I known, I never would have allowed that blackguard Simpson to draw a single breath upon my deck, much less allowed him along on the _Papillion _mission. Your being lost during that mission was my responsibility. It is a guilt I have carried all these years. I feared that the repercussions of that mission would be the end of you, but thankfully, you proved me wrong. For I did not know you then as I know you now, did not know the incredible reserves of strength you possessed, the will to live.

I do not know all of what occurred in Spain, but I do know that you came back a better man, albeit a slightly paler, thinner version of the man we lost, with new scars both external and internal. I know of your month-long ordeal in the oubliette, and your care of the man Hunter when he was injured, a man who had thought nothing of leaving you behind to die, in order to secure his own freedom. It was very telling, that a midshipman lost to us for two years, was more representative of the kind of officer we want in His Majesty's Navy than one who had been serving aboard ship for years. But, that was so typical of the man you are. Were. Will always be, in my memory.

Your conduct after that episode was commendable. You took what would have beaten down a lesser man, and turned it around, into something that made you better and stronger. I confess, that until the moment you volunteered to return to El Ferrol, I had not taken much notice of you, other than as Hornblower's friend, and one of many midshipmen I have known through the years. I think that you, with that self-deprecating wit you possessed, would agree that until then, you had done nothing to distinguish yourself from the other young officers aboard. But something happened when you spoke up that day on deck, volunteering to return to the hell you had finally been able to leave, simply because your friend and superior officer had given his word that you would. You stepped forward and presented yourself as someone worthy of notice and respect. Not every man would have followed Hornblower then. I was very proud of him at that moment, yes, but no more so than I was of you, and every other man who returned with you. It was that day, Mr. Kennedy, that I decided to promote you to acting-lieutenant, even though you had been removed from active duty for so long, because a man who would follow like that, shows the men that he will not ask them to do something he would not do himself. It is the mark of a true leader.

I find myself wishing that you would have had a chance to demonstrate that leadership, that you would have someday had a command of your own. I think that your ship would have been the envy of many. Times are changing, Mr. Kennedy, and I think you would have been at the forefront of that change - a new breed of leader who does not distance himself from his men, but instead rolls up his shirtsleeves and joins in the work. It truly saddens me that that will never happen.

I will miss you. I find myself surprised by that thought. From someone I had barely taken notice of, to a man committing the truest, most unselfish act of friendship and loyalty, you have become a part of my world and everything in it. You truly have a way of imprinting yourself on someone, without their even being aware. I know it is true of me. And I can see that it is true of Mr. Hornblower, who sits at your bed, his shoulders bowed with his grief. I pray that this will not be his downfall, yet I fear his heart has now closed itself off. I wonder if he ever really knew how much he needed you.

I fear I will never be able to forget what has happened here, nor my role in this whole fiasco. It was I, after all, who pushed to have you transferred along with Mr. Hornblower, so that the two of you would not be separated when he went to _Renown_. If only I had kept you aboard _Indefatigable_, you would not now be lying dead, your reputation in tatters, your name vilified, and Mr. Hornblower would not be sitting beside your empty deathbed, his heart torn from his body. I wonder if he shall ever forgive me. I do know that I shall never forgive myself. If only I had not allowed you to speak…

Rest easy, Mr. Kennedy, for your sacrifice shall not be in vain. He will, I promise you, become the man you knew he would, and I shall do everything in my power to see that he is well, and safe, and successful. Not that he needs my help. Still, he shall have it nonetheless. I shall also make it my sacred duty to see that those who know the truth of your actions, keep it within their hearts, and remember you fondly, as an officer and a man of honor.

I swear this to your memory, Mr. Kennedy. I will take care of him. His will be a long and successful life, though it will be one much poorer for having lost you. And yet, I truly believe that the lives of all who knew you are richer for the experience, and we will all hold you up as the epitome of honor, someone we shall strive to emulate in our own fashion. I suspect, however, that we shall all fall short in that endeavour. 

Godspeed, Archie. I think you would not mind me using your Christian name after all of this. It will, I think, be the way I will always think of you - fondly, as a brave and honorable man, and, if I may be so bold, a friend. I am honored to have had the pleasure of your acquaintance. Be free now, and with God's good grace, we shall meet once more. I look forward to seeing you again.


	4. Fate: Atropos

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Fate: Atropos

No, Horatio.

You mustn't blame yourself for this. I made this decision with my eyes and my heart open. I would have liked to live to see you Admiral of the Fleet, but fate had other ideas for the two of us. It's done. You saw the wound, Horatio, and you know I would never have survived, no matter how much you may have wanted it. It's my time to go, my friend, and this time you cannot go with me. You MUST not go with me. 

Ah, Horatio. So stoic, so reserved. If anyone were watching us, they would think you were merely paying a courtesy call on a dying shipmate, that it didn't matter to you that I was gone. But I know you. I see the pain in those dark eyes, the grief you will let no other man see, the barely suppressed tears you struggle to hide. And I remember the times when you let me inside, when you put down your barriers and let me see the vulnerable, scared man behind the facade. The trust you showed in me then, Horatio, shook me to my core. Your friendship was the greatest gift I ever received, which is why I have no regrets about giving you this meager gift of my own.

I know you don't understand that my good name means nothing to me. After all, 'a rose by any other name....' I lived without the merit of that 'good name' for so long, aboard _Justinian_, that I never thought it would matter to me. Certainly, in those dark days as Jack Simpson's boy, I never dreamed that I would someday escape from the leers and taunts of the crew, the ostracizing by the other midshipmen. I do not blame them, for they were only protecting themselves. If Jack turned from me, he would have found someone else for his foul games, and I would not have wished that on any of them. Not even Hether. (!) Does that surprise you, Horatio? You of all men knew the depths that Simpson pushed me into, you alone knew the despair that drove me to try to end my life in Spain. You knew how badly I wanted it to end with Simpson. But never, Horatio, *never* at the cost of anyone else having to endure what I did, not even one time. Had he done more than beaten you, my friend, I would have killed him, somehow. Even if it had been a knife in the back as he slept, or slitting his throat in the dark, I would never let him do that to you. Thank god he never did.

I know that trust has never come easily to you, but you must learn to let others get close to you. I know what my passing has done to you, Horatio, and I know that you will lock this pain away inside of you, where no one can see it. Don't, Horatio. If you learned one thing from me, let it be that it is not a sign of weakness to allow others to help you, especially in times like this. You shouldn't be alone. 

William Bush is a good man, even if he and I did get off to an uncomfortable start. He is not looking to take my place, Horatio. I think he knows that the bond we shared was much too strong and ran too deep for it to ever be replaced, but if you will let him in, he will be a good friend. Your friendship will be different than ours was. Ours was born of mutual suffering and adversity, and was formed when we were but children - not even yet young men - and strengthened through our ordeals in Spain, Muzillac, and finally aboard _Renown_. (And let us not forget those times in Portsmouth!) You are a grown man now, and I think you will come to lean on Bush and his experience. Let him be your friend, Horatio. It will not be a betrayal of our friendship. Instead, I think it will be a testament to it.

Bush is not your only friend, either. I suspect Commodore Pellew will always be there to lend you a helping hand, and you must remember to swallow that stubborn pride of yours, and accept his help when it is offered. We were very fortunate, you and I, when we left the rotting corpse of _Justinian_, and transferred to the _Indy_, with the finest captain in the fleet at her helm. I know that he held you in special regard, but I never held that against you, for I believe that he and I also reached a place of mutual understanding and respect. I know that he moved heaven and earth to keep us together when we left the _Indy_. We both owe him a great deal for that, and for so much more. He knows, Horatio. He knows that I did what I did in order that you might live, free of this shadow that hung over us all. Do not hold him to any blame for letting me speak my piece in court. He knew, as did I, that my fate was already sealed, but yours was not.

It's all right, Horatio. This is what I chose to do, the only way I could ever repay you for all you have done for me; for not abandoning me aboard _Justinian_; for not hating me for what I was and who I belonged to; for teaching me to have faith in myself and my abilities; for helping me to find those abilities; for caring for me during my fits and never looking away in embarrassment, as so many others did; for seeing something in me that was worth saving; for forcing me to take that first drink in El Ferrol; for trusting me to lead the men when you served your time in the oubliette; for making me face my fears at the bridge. For so many things, I owe you my life. And so, I give it back to you, freely and without reservation.

I'm not afraid anymore, Horatio. I'm free - for the first time in my life, I'm free from all the demons and the nightmares. No longer will shadows frighten me, or evil men tear my soul, and I have you to thank for that. You always believed in me, especially when I could not believe in myself, and our strength together was something that was truly phenomenal. I think we were a good balance - you helped me to become a better, stronger man, and I like to think that I helped you to become a more compassionate one. It's just too bad that, no matter how many attempts I made, I could never teach you how to tell a joke properly. Still, I suppose even the almighty Horatio Hornblower must have *some* faults. Well, one, certainly.

Time I was away, Horatio. I will not say goodbye, but only farewell, for I know now that we will one day be reunited. I've seen it, just as I have seen the glorious life you have ahead of you. You will have trials, yes, but you will always triumph in the end, and you will have the life you deserve, the life you came so close to losing. I'm already so proud of you. My one true friend. Know that always, I will be beside you, and I will live inside your heart. You have so much to look forward to, Horatio, and I myself am looking forward to watching you live your life to the fullest, and achieving the greatness that I know awaits you.

Do not grieve long for me, Horatio. Instead, rejoice in the life we lived together, and the friendship that bound us together for eternity. Know always that I loved you, as a friend and as a brother. My life is yours, my friend. Live it well. And when your time has come to join me, we will sail again together, our ship forever pointed toward the sun, our souls high and free atop the yardarm.

A new voyage awaits me, my friend. For now I sail alone, but not it will not be forever. Godspeed to you, my brother. I will watch over you as best I can, and I will weep with both joy and sorrow when it is our time to be reunited. I will wait for you, Horatio. I will wait for the man who is the other half of my soul, the man who is and will always be my best friend.

I have but one final request of you. Live, Horatio. Grasp your life with both hands, and *live*. If you truly wish to honor me, that is the only way to do it. Live for the two of us. And for god's sake, Horatio, please, at least try to be happy. Can you do that for me? I am who I am because of you, because you looked beyond the surface and found something worthwhile, buried deep inside. Keep me beside you, but do not wear my death as a millstone - instead, live and be happy. That is what I wish for you.

Farewell, my friend. We'll see each other again soon.


End file.
